


Favorite Things

by mairesmagicshop



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Surprises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 09:37:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15240534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mairesmagicshop/pseuds/mairesmagicshop
Summary: Asra and Julian have been acting strangely... what could be happening?





	Favorite Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smilelikeanhyde](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=smilelikeanhyde).



> written with gratitude for @smilelikeanhyde, who so graciously placed his apprentice Musa into my hands and my heart

Something's amiss, Musa thinks, the feeling unshakeable, bordering on nauseating. He's exhausted, as usual, but he's learned to cope with that. What he can't puzzle out is Asra and Julian: the furtive glances of late, hushed conversations at night when they think he's gone to bed. Sometimes Julian doesn't return at all, and it's in Asra's arms he awakens. 

He worries at his lip, unconsciously grinding the wolf's bane even harder into the mortar, unable to stop the unwelcome thoughts trickling through his mind. Is one of them unhappy? Is Julian going to... to leave?

While their home life all together wasn't the smoothest road all the time, the fact remained that the three of them had built a life together, and it brought Musa more joy than he'd thought could be possible. Musa was sleeping slightly better (for him, anyway), falling asleep in the tangled embraces of Asra and Julian together, their hands upon him steady and comforting when he woke up trembling from some unremembered nightmare.

They would eat breakfast together, Julian regaling them with some raucous tale inevitably involving pirates, swordfights, or the kidnapping of some royal's unfortunate pet; Asra and Musa linking hands, humoring him with good-natured smiles; Musa reminding Julian to eat enough, leaning across the table with a berry or piece of tender mango; Julian eagerly biting into it, a rakish look in his eyes.

When Julian returned home from his house calls, he'd gather Musa in his arms like they were reunited after a longer absence than just a day, and evitably Asra would have some terribly witty remark in store. Sometimes it descended into chaos, Asra and Julian bickering until Musa put a stop to the nonsense, and sometimes they would they would just drink tea (although Musa would brew coffee for Julian, strong and black, just as he liked it), and laugh, and talk about the day they'd had while one or more of them would make dinner.

Musa likes those nights best, the slow, easy ones; the ones where he can admire his lovers by candlelight, when voices are gentle and he is unrushed, content. Held safe in the cocoon they build around him, the edge of his familiar fear dulled by their soft murmuring, he can drift off to sleep for a few hours, at least. 

But in the last few days, something just feels off, somehow. The frenetic energy between Julian and Asra is subdued, different. Where, not too long ago, he saw affection and desire, now Musa sees traps for the unwary, secrets simmering below the surface. And it is his nature to worry first.

"Musa," Asra calls out, breaking him from his introspection. "I just noticed we're out of calendula. Would you mind going to the market for more?" 

Musa glances sideways at Asra in disbelief from across the shop. Asra never sends him to the market alone – too many trips returned with all manner of goodies put a swift stop to that. Musa’s mouth goes dry, the words frozen in his mouth. Why does Asra want him to leave right now? It’s nearly sundown. What does he need to do that Musa can’t help him with? The whole situation feels strange and unwelcome. It’s easier to leave it behind, clear his head. Yes, he thinks. I’ll go and get some fresh air and then we’ll sort this all later. Whatever “this” even is.

Musa nods at Asra in reply, feet already out the door. “Sure Asra,” he says as casually as he can manage. “I’ll see you later.” He gently shuts the door behind him, his heart a tangle of anxiety, but he takes a deep breath, and sets off.

He’s always loved the way the market smelled in the afternoon; the air redolent of spice and the promise of savory pies for dinner. Musa makes sure he gets the calendula but can’t resist a bag of chewy candy, popping one in his mouth as he ruminates again. He can barely put a finger on it, really, aside from the nagging in his heart and where… has Julian been? They’d not spent a night apart for months now, and Musa felt the absence keenly as he lay awake the last two nights, Asra alone trying to comfort him. He falls into the thorny embrace of unwanted thoughts, his pace quickening seemingly of its own accord. 

He didn’t mean to walk so fast, but perhaps it’s for the best that he’s arrived back at the shop, right as the sun is setting. Musa takes another deep breath. He’ll find out, he thinks, one way or another.

The door is unlocked; the shop, dark, but only at first. Stepping in fully, Musa looks around and sees dim little paper lanterns on a string, tied along the stair to the upper room. He’s entranced; what has Asra done? He follows the lanterns up the stairs and is greeted with a sweet, delicious smell before he even notices his lovers, both of them, standing side by side, Julian’s long arm around Asra’s shoulders, their hands outstretched to Musa, smiles wide. The room is lit by the lanterns and candlelight, fresh flowers in vases, the table set with a sumptuous dinner.

“Surprise, my dear Musa!” Julian shouts. Asra just shakes his head, grinning at Julian’s boisterous outburst. “Happy birthday, Musa. Did you think we forgot?”

Musa clutches his chest in response, calendula fluttering to his feet. “I think I’m having a heart attack, is what I think!” In all this madness, had he truly forgotten his own birthday? His head is swimming.

Julian springs forward into action. “Musa, does your arm hurt? Tell me, do you feel any pressure?”

Musa rolls his eyes. “Not literally – Ilya – where have you been? I’ve been worrying for days. The two of you were acting so strangely…”

Julian and Asra grin conspiratorially at each other, then back at Musa. 

“Well, tamarind is apparently very hard to find at this time of year,” Julian shrugs, pointing at the glass pitched on the table. “For the tamar hindi - who knew?”

“But we wanted to plan a lovely evening and surprise you with your favorite things,” Asra says, slipping his arm around Musa’s waist. “I – we,” he says, nodding at Julian, “love you.”

Julian leans in close now, as well. “And we’re terribly sorry if we made you worry. Happy birthday, darling.”

Musa’s heart feels like it could overflow – how silly his worries seem now – and he gathers them into a closer embrace. “I have my favorite things right here,” he says, closing his eyes. “I can’t believe you went to all this trouble for me.”

“It’s no trouble to take care of the ones you love,” Asra says, kissing each of Musa’s cheeks gently. “Now, are you hungry?”

“Because I single-handedly prepared this feast!” Julian finishes, gesturing to the apron Musa now only notices he’s wearing. Musa laughs, delighted. “Although Asra insisted on making the kahk himself.”

“I couldn’t take the chance that Ilya would ruin them,” Asra remarks dryly. Julian whips a towel at him for good measure, and all hell threatens to break loose. Just like normal. Comforting. Familiar.

Musa just sits at the table, smiling and content, waiting for them to join him as he knows they will.


End file.
